I watch as Brax twirls my daughter around the living room, then kisses the hell out of her for the whole fucking family to see.
“Because she’s mine,” I say on a sigh. “She’s been mine since she was nine, and I’m not ready to let some wannabe rock star just waltz in and decide that she’s his.”
“Oh, babe,” Brynna says and kisses my biceps. “She is his. And she’s yours, too. She doesn’t have to choose. She can have you both. And what a lucky woman she is that two good men love her so damn much.”
I blink, considering. “I like him,” I finally admit. “But he hurt her once.”
“And he will likely do it again without even realizing he has. You’re not perfect yourself.”
“I hurt you?” I stare down at her in horror. “Shit, what did I do, Legs? I’ll fix it.”
“Nothing today.” She leans on me once again and watches our kids with all the others. “But we hurt each other. We’re human. But we also love, and we’re a family. Brax is a part of that now, whether you like it or not.”
“They’re not married,” I mutter.
“Yet,” she says.
“You’re way too chipper about this.”
“You’re freaking out enough for both of us. She’s happy, Caleb. Just look at her.”
Josie’s laughing, eating a cupcake.
“Yeah, she’s happy.”
“That’s all we can ask for.”
“If he fucks this up, I’ll kill him with my bare hands and make it look like a goddamn accident.”
“I’ll help,” our son, Drew, adds as he joins us.
“You’re a good kid,” I tell him and bump fists with him.
But we watch as Brax brushes his fingertips down Josie’s cheek, and I know in my heart that he loves my girl. It’s written all over his face.
It’s the same look that I still give my wife.
Twenty years of Christmas mornings and trick-or-treating run through my mind. Nursing Josie through the flu and comforting her when she didn’t make the cheerleading squad.
It all passed in the blink of an eye.
And now, she’s mixed up with a musician.
“Stop being grumpy,” Brynna says. “And congratulate Brax and his band.”
“Later.” Josie looks my way and gives me that special smile. The one that says, “I love you, Daddy.”
“Let them have fun. I’ll talk with him later.”
“Don’t scare him.”
“You’re no fun.”
I may have to share her with him, but she’ll always be my little girl.